


one step, not much (but it said enough)

by strangesmallbard



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, F/F, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:12:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9262910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangesmallbard/pseuds/strangesmallbard
Summary: She looks at Emma and watches the hazel flecks in her eyes, the hairs on the back of her neck shining golden. “It’s only two months,” she says, voice high and soft. “I’m sure he can hold off mayhem until finals, at least.”Emma laughs and squeezes her hand. “Whatever you read, finals are not that dramatic.”**With Henry off to college, Emma and Regina find themselves confronted with the scariest big bad yet: their actual feelings for each other. (Also, someone is trying to destroy Storybrooke again, but that's just a Tuesday).





	

**Author's Note:**

> hoo boy after a few years i am attempting a multichap again! there are some things to know:
> 
> 1\. au after the 6A finale, but also au in general since instance, hook either doesn't exist or is irrelevant and marian's alive instead of robin, who's probably never going to be mentioned.  
> 2\. this is my homage to how ridiculous storybrooke could be  
> 3\. magic lore! ouat changes it every season or so, so here i just took some pieces of what they gave us and ran wild.  
> 4\. realistically updates are gonna be slow at first since i'm back at school now and still figuring out how to pace longer pieces. i'll hopefully settle into something like a schedule once i work the semester out!
> 
> many numerous thanks to 13pens and skywideopen for all their help, and i hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> (title is from "you are in love" by taylor swift)

“Well,” Emma says, more confident than she feels. “This is it.”

“This is it,” Regina echoes and they watch Henry mingle with his new roommate at a club booth a few minutes longer. God, he’s tall. It’s annoying. It means he’s grown up and can now mingle with his roommate at the orientation fair, and they have to _leave_ him and–

“Emma,” Regina says, softly. Emma turns and her eyes are shining, but she’s smiling.

“Yeah, we should go.” Emma sniffs and quickly wipes at her own eyes. “Big drive ahead.”

Regina looks over at the booth again. “How ‘uncool’ would it be if we asked if he wanted one more cafeteria-free dinner?”

“Super uncool. Luckily, our kid’s a big nerd who loves us and would probably appreciate it in the long run.”

Regina laughs and it settles warm in Emma’s stomach. She nudges her shoulder and leans their heads together. Her hair and her everything suddenly swarms Emma’s senses and it’s that feeling she always has, safety and contentment and something else. Like one of those artificial fireplaces that never burns. Or, no, but. Never burns is key statement.

“We should go,” Regina says, voice hoarse. “He’ll call if he needs us.”

Emma nods. “Yeah.” She lightly kicks a stray rock. “Do you uh, hope he’ll–”

“I’m taking my phone off vibrate,” Regina says.

“Is your ring-tone still the Smiths because then we’re going to have some problems.”

Regina laughs again. “Yours is still _Buffy_ theme song, _Ms. Swan_ , so you don’t get to complain.”

“That is a classic and you know it, _Madam Mayor.”_

This is the easy part. Henry at the booth, lanyard around his neck and arms full of folders, waving at them once more with his familiar half-crooked smile. Then leaving the fair, talking with his roommate. William, Emma remembers. That’s the thing that makes the air around them heavy.

They’ve done it, Emma knows. They made it. He’s alive and he’s safe and he’s great and he’s gonna be great, but–

When neither of them can find it within themselves to leave, Regina tugs her away.

They walk shoulder to shoulder, arm-in-arm, Emma knows how it looks, two moms leaving their son oh so together, but she can’t bring herself to pull away. The day’s only getting colder.

 

* * *

 

They roll up the driveway of 108 Mifflin as six o’clock softens the light. Just three days ago Henry was beating some pokemon level in the backseat, and now they won’t see him for three whole months.

It’s overwhelming enough that she doesn’t take her hand off the steering wheel for a few minutes. Regina’s asleep in the passenger seat, head tucked down, snoring haphazardly and Emma smiles at her, fond.

She really doesn’t want to get out of the car. The house is waiting for them, but Emma’s not sure how this whole empty space thing is gonna go. She’s not sure she wants to. They had routines. Set routines that didn’t make her panic.

She doesn’t panic now either, and she hopes that’s enough.

Her phone rings out the _Buffy_ theme and she’s only a little bit disappointed in herself when she’s disappointed that it’s her mother. “Hey,” she says.

“Emma!” says Neal.

Regina eyes flash open, mildly startled from sleep. Emma holds out her hand without really thinking about it, and Regina squeezes it as if to say, _I’m okay._

“Hey kiddo, where’s mom?”

“I dunno, where are _you?”_

She grins and shares it with Regina. She puts the phone on speaker. “We just got back!  Can you put mom on? I bet she’s right next to you, huh?”

There’s a rustle and Regina shakes her head, laughing warmly. She gets out her phone presumably to look for any messages from Henry. Emma did the same at the last gas stop.

“He’s wondering how you knew that,” Mary Margaret says. “Should I tell him that you’re a superhero or psychic?”

“Both,” Emma says. “Before he realizes that I’m just a mediocre HORSE player.”

“You are a mediocre HORSE player,” Regina says, still looking at her phone. “Roland beat you last time.”

“Did it occur to you, maybe, that I let the seven-year-old win?”

Regina raises a brow at her. “You also lost to _me,_ and you’ve never just let _me_ win any sport. Or board game either for that matter.”

Emma playfully nudges her shoulder. “I let you win Twister.”

“No, no no. I won that fair and square.”

Emma shrugs. “My arms got tired and I wanted pizza.”

“Emma Swan–”

“Hello you two? Did you forget I was on the line?”

Emma’s neck burns a little because, wow. Regina breaks their eye contact and clears her throat, goes back to her own phone that contains no new text messages from Henry. “Uh,” Emma says, still looking at Regina. “Nope, I’ve never forgotten anything in my life.”

“Right, so how was the trip? Henry all settled in?”

“I hope so, but our son has declined to let us know for sure,” Regina says.

“Oh no,” Mary-Margaret says. “Neal! Neal, don’t eat that, it has raw egg!” Regina rolls her eyes. “I’m sure he’s doing fine. He’s probably caught up in all excitement.”

“Well, I’d rather these next four years to be the most boring years of his life.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but says, “Yeah, I second that.” What she doesn’t say is _Neverland was exciting enough_ and _one time his parents got trapped in a mirror forever,_ but feels Regina’s hand on her arm anyway, lightly stroking down to her wrist and back.

She practically hears Mary Margaret shake her head. “Do you still want to come over for dinner? I’m putting those cookies you and Neal love in the oven, Emma.”

Regina’s hand settles against hers, their fingertips brushing. Emma wants to thread them together but thinks. She wouldn’t know when to let go. She thinks about her parents and her brother, waiting for her, for them, her favorite cookies, jeez. It’s all too much, but she doesn’t want to run away. She wants to put her hands by the fire.

“We’ll be there,” Regina says, when she doesn’t reply. “Emma just needs to change into her formal leather jacket.

 _“Ha-ha,”_ Emma says with a wry grin, and clicks the car door open. “See you guys soon.”

 

* * *

 

After Emma kicks her shoes into the hall closet, the Smiths ring out from the kitchen.

She bolts and slides the last quarter of the way there on the hardwood. Regina cocks her head and purses her lips but can’t say shit, because she’s holding a tub of cookies and cream. Because Mary Margaret and David were out. Because Mary Margaret and David _are godless creatures who only like mint chip_ , in Regina’s words.

Regina’s smile is big and vibrant when she answers the phone, it’s the smile she reserves for–

“Henry!” She says in a voice half an octave higher than usual. Something in Emma’s chest soars up to the sky. “How are you, sweetheart?” She puts the phone on speaker.

“Hey moms! I’m assuming Emma is there too.”

Emma is, and she’s smiling just as wide. “Hey kid, long time no see.”

“Sorry for not calling. They make you do way too much shi– uh, stuff for orientation. I’m tired. Will is already asleep.”

Shortened names already, nice.

“You’re not waking him up?” Regina says.

“Dorm lounge, mom. I’m right next door to ours. Also...there’s a 360 in here, can you guys maybe send me up some of my games?”

She and Regina exchange a look. _It’s okay_ , Emma tries to say with a head tilt and a shrug. _He won’t goof off, he was excited about learning new things_. Regina shakes her head.

“How about we give it a month, hmm? See how everything’s going?”

He laughs. “I told Will it wouldn’t work. Well, I have an eight am class tomorrow, so.”

“Ouch,” Emma says.

“I promise to catch you guys up sometime later this week!”

Regina lifts a finger even though he’s not there. “Tomorrow, mister.”

“Yeah, okay. Are you guys...doing alright? Mom looked kinda teary today.”

Regina huffs, but smiles again. “I only have one of you to send off to college, Henry.”

“We’re fine, Henry,” Emma says, declining to mention her own crying session at the infamous gas station. “Get a good night’s sleep, and don’t be late. I’m pretty sure that would be bad on the first day.”

“Wear a scarf tomorrow!” Regina says, lifting the phone closer. “I checked the weather, it’s going to be freezing. And tell us whether you need that mattress pad after all!”

“Alright, alright. Love you guys! Talk to you–”

“Tomorrow!” Emma and Regina chorus, then look at each other. Emma reddens.

“We love you too,” Emma says, the word burbling up with an edge of trepidation despite all the years it’s softened into something warm and familiar.

“Goodnight, little prince,” Regina says softly, and Henry hangs up after another semi-muffled _Love you!_ She puts the phone down on the counter, and they both stare at it. Emma sits down at the counter, and begins to fidget with her hands on her lap.

“He’s really okay,” Regina says, voice cracking. “He’s all grown up.”

“Not quite,” Emma says. “Everyone thinks they’re all grown up by eighteen, but…” She shrugs to ward off cold. “You know, he’s still gonna need us.”

Regina’s face settles into something like devastation, eyes stricken, a crease forming between her brow, and she settles next to Emma at the counter. She reaches a hand over Emma’s bare shoulder and brushes back the hair draped on it. “He’ll _always_ have us, Emma.”

Emma swallows and covers Regina’s hand with her own, feeling warm, warm, warm. “Yeah. Shit, what should we gonna do now? Card games?”

Regina barks out a sharp, wavering laugh. “I’ll beat you at Crazy Eights any day, Swan. Pick another venue.”

“A rematch of HORSE?”

Regina pushes the ice cream towards them. “Tomorrow, I’m exhausted.”

“I didn’t mean like, right now. It’s eleven pm.”

Regina lifts her chin. “Do you think the dark would truly hinder my skills?”

“Oh my god.”

She hands Emma a bowl, smile triumphant. “We should go to bed, shouldn’t we.”

“Yeah. Tomorrow is gonna be….a day, I guess.”

They look at the phone again.

“I’m going to go read in the living room for a while, actually. Join me?”

Emma rubs the back of her neck. If Henry were home, they’d probably all watch something together, or maybe they wouldn’t, maybe Regina would be working in the office and Emma downstairs on some paperwork or mucking around on twitter and Henry would be in his room, skyping Grace while he does homework, but it wouldn’t feel like any of them were alone.

It wouldn’t now, she knows. She imagines Regina and her, starting off on opposite ends of the couch but then drifting closer, ever so slowly because Regina wants to read something out loud to Emma that made her laugh or made her kinda sad but in the good way, and maybe they’d end up shoulder to shoulder, just talking because that’s happened before, and maybe Emma would give Regina shit because she actually loves sappy romance novels and–

“I’m gonna go to bed, actually, uh. Get a good night’s sleep for the new week, you know.”

Regina raises her brow. “Okay,” she says, and points at Emma’s bowl.  “Are you going to finish that first, or can I take it off your hands?”

“Excuse me,” Emma says, pulling her bowl away.  “That requires a HORSE victory.”

Regina rolls her eyes. “At least you like respectable flavors.”

“What’s wrong with mint chip, anyway?”

“Mint is for toothpaste and basic alchemy.”

Emma takes a big bite of ice cream out of spite, or something. “Alchemy? Really?”

Regina shrugs. “We never did get to that in your magical training.”

She stops taking big bites because brain freeze cannot be cured by any spell. “Maybe that’s something we can do to fill the time.”

Regina pauses in her bite. She swallows and stares at her spoon, then Emma. The crease between her brow is back. “Fill the time?”

Emma swirls the ice cream around, feeling the same cold creep up her neck. “You know, until Henry gets back.”

Regina takes the bite carefully and slowly. “Right. Yes, we can do that.” She clears her throat and gets up suddenly with the ice cream tub, plasters on a smile so fake Emma can see tinsel. “Do you want any more before I put it away?”

“Uh,” shit shit shit. “No thanks?”

Regina doesn’t respond, and goes to put it away in the freezer. Emma watches her back, the careful creases made by her silky shirt, and sees her shoulders imperceptibly hunch.

“Regina?” she says, softly.

She hears a sniff and half a sob, and oh fuck. She’s up before she can think and placing a hand on her shoulder, like Regina did minutes before. “Hey, he’s gonna be back.”

Regina turns around and her eyes are rimmed red. She’s pressing her lips in an effort to get them to stop quivering, and it’s not working. “That’s not–,” she says in a low voice. She harshly swipes at her face and shakes her head. “I’m fine, this is just...I knew he was leaving, and yet–”

Emma swallows her own lip quiver, but tears still manage to gather in her eyes anyway, traitorous fuckers. She reaches up and brushes away hair, not quite sure what to do with her hands, but wanting them close. If Regina will have her. “I think this is a normal response, according to television.”

Regina leans into her palm and stares and stares with eyes like Neverland, like Emma just stopped the sword in mid-air and remembered, and Emma reels, all her blood rushing up somewhere new.

She steps back. Lowers her palm. “Sleep well, Emma. Don’t use all the hot water tomorrow morning.”

She leaves the room, and Emma all of a sudden doesn’t understand a thing.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Regina is already gone. She leaves a note, though, which means that she’s not getting the cold shoulder for….something. Regina doesn’t really do cold-shoulders, anyway. Hot shoulders? Fireballs to the shoulders?

_There’s fresh coffee in the pot._

_-R_

Emma pours a glass, and it’s kind of chilled, which is probably fine. Everything’s probably fine, and there’s no reason why anything should be less than fine. It’s fine. She watches warm orange autumn stream through the window, and tries to appreciate a quiet morning. It doesn’t quite work, because quiet has always meant alone in her personal dictionary, but. Birds are nice. She’s not like her mom, but they’re. Friendly. Sound nice. Good for the ecosystem.

Her phone chimes and it’s a selfie of Henry in a scarf with his thumbs up. His brand new backpack can be seen in the corner and it’s like he’s still off to Storybrooke High instead of college, and it’s a lot to handle over coffee. Regina replied with four heart emojis and Emma’s heart is feeling the same thing.

Everything is fine.

 

* * *

 

Except, it happens the next morning too. And the next.

Followed by almost a month of the same; waking up to an empty house, eating alone, seeing Regina at work sometimes, talking with Regina at work with the usual amount of banter and more or less civil disagreement over methodology. She still leaves Emma notes in the morning. Emma saves them. By the time they get home, they both claim too much exhaustion for conversation and Emma starts to expect getting physically ghosted by Regina. In her own house, which is still her home, but Emma is afraid afraid afraid.

Which is really not exactly it, because Regina leaves her office door ajar and definitely wouldn’t get offended (anymore) by Emma knocking or even just stopping in to say hello. Which she does once, with dinner, because she stress baked a meatloaf. Then, Regina looked really shocked by the meatloaf, but she also looked happy, though, her smile beautiful and soft, and Emma has no idea how to start this conversation. She wouldn’t know how to end it.

However. Everything is fine. Henry is adjusting well in school; he loves his classes, has a neat group of friends that he quote, chills with, and he texts a new picture of him in a scarf going off to class every morning because he’s a shit, and he’s her favorite shit. Aside from his mother.

God, shit.

She saves the photos in an iPhone album, and by week two she completely remembers not to make toast the way he likes it, or knock on his door to get him to wake up for school. Driving by his highschool still makes her heart twinge, and Regina is still. Not ignoring her, but they haven’t had a real conversation since the night in the kitchen. She thinks about telling Henry during the phone calls that aren’t a group conversation with Regina, but what on earth would she say, and she wouldn’t want to _worry_ Henry, when he’s having the most normal and regular year of his life.

Emma starts to savor those group conversations. It feels like before.

Everything is fine.

 

* * *

 

The Storybrooke Police Department works like a adequately oiled machine. Things get done, but magic always adds its extra twist.

Today is busy, which is good, because Regina hasn’t sent her any text messages since the group chat this morning, which were to Henry. She could send Regina a text first, but then she’d be waiting for a reply. Or not, because maybe she’s overthinking this and Regina will just reply as she always does, even post The Night in the Kitchen. One sentence texts, no caps but good grammar. Emojis, strategically chosen, unless it’s their son. Then it’s like, every heart emoji ever manufactured.

She has that memorized.

Wait, Regina usually asks her to lunch on Mondays because their schedules coincide. Did they go to lunch last Monday? Yeah, they went to lunch last Monday. They had burgers. Emma stole her french fries. That was at _work,_ though, so–

“Okay,” she says to Mrs. Muffet. “So your cat...Andrew. Really, Andrew?”

“It’s a respectable name for a cat,” Mrs Muffet says. She folds her hands over her light purple crochet purse. “Besides, he was a horse in the Enchanted Forest. That _still_ hasn’t been worked out, even though I put in a form _ages_ ago.”

“Alright,” Emma says, trying to picture in her head where David keeps the advil. Also, the weed. They’re hopefully in different places. “So, Andrew the cat fell...into a portal? Are you certain that the wind didn’t just…” she makes a sweeping motion, and Mrs. Muffet gasps.

“Ma’am?” Emma says, hoping she didn’t make the biggest mistake of her career.  “We’re just considering the possibilities.”

She purses her lips. “I couldn’t just _imagine_ a huge purple portal, now could I?”

“Purple?” Emma says weakly. She thinks back to magic lessons with Regina and also numerous life experiences. Purple is very notable. “Are you sure it wasn’t more of a mauve?”

Mrs. Muffet stands, which causes Mulan, who’d been listening in from her desk, to also stand and sit on it. “Well, I never!”

“You’ve never seen a portal before?” Mulan says, sharing a quick look with Emma. “Describe it to us. Emma, get out the pad.”

“I’m not using the pad. We always lose notes when we use the pad.”

Mulan rolls her eyes, and gets out the pad. “Now, how big is Andrew?”

After a not-so subtle glare in Emma’s direction, Mrs. Muffet gets up and delicately sits down across from Mulan’s desk. Emma takes a deep breath, and leans back in her chair with her hands folded over her stomach.

Her phone buzzes, and her heart drops there too.

It’s not Regina. 

_Bit of a situation out on Mulberry Street. Could use your help. -Dad_

_do i want to know right now or should i be surprised_

_Two words: Portals and Golden Goose Eggs_

_that’s five_

_:)_

At least there’s a theme today.

She leans back in her chair and with a great sigh, stands up and cracks her spine. She grabs her jacket, the blue one that makes her arms look nice, and tugs it on as she leaves.

“Mulan, doing good with Mrs. Muffet over there?”

“Peachy keen, no thanks to you!” Mrs Muffet says, arms crossed.

Mulan’s raises both brows and she presses her lips together. “Doing fine, Sheriff. I’ve assured her that we’ll do our best to find Andrew.”

She zips up the jacket and smiles. “What she said, Ma’am.”

Mrs. Muffet lifts her chin. “You are a disgrace to this kingdom.”

“Awesome,” Emma says. “Well, best wishes to your family.  No spiders scaring your granddaughter, I hope.”

She blinks. “Spiders?

Emma salutes, and Mulan lets out a snort.

 

* * *

 

One the way to Mulberry, three things happen.

One, Regina doesn’t call or text. Emma caves and sends her a _hey_ , _how’s the day going?_ and agonizes for five minutes in the parking lot over which emoji to use. She goes with the eyes emoji, though she stares at the yellow heart about four of those five minutes.

Two, Henry texts his usual scarf picture. Though today there’s also a floppy hat, and a pair of blue eyes and red hair smushed in the corner, photobombing. She stops the car to text him back: _have a good day, kid!_ _tell Will hi for me._

Three, Marian does call.

“Hey, how goes patrol?”

“Somewhere between irritating and shitty,” Marian says. “A portal opened on Miller Drive. It swallowed Hans’ dog house and he’s pretty angry.”

“Hans? Sideburns Frozen guy?”

“No, the miller, Hans. Hans Miller.”

“Let me guess, who lives on Miller Drive?”

"...Green Avenue?"

“Wait, did you say his _house?_ _Wait,_ are you okay?”

She hears a man yelling, and Marian yelling _Hey! Back it up, or this arrow is going right through the left gonad, Miller!”_

There’s another rustle, something that could possibly be an arrow flying through the air, and Marian comes back. “Dog house. And doing great, but tell Roland he can have all the hidden hershey bar in the top shelf I’ve been saving for his birthday. Just in case.”

Emma wants to laugh, but not yet. “David has another portal situation on Mulberry. I’m heading there now, should I send Mulan over to handle Miller?”

“That would be helpful, thanks. See you on the other side. Also, Roland wants Henry’s college address. He drew him a picture.”

She smiles. “I’ll text it to you.”

“Thanks, Emma– _Miller! Put the–_ ” She hangs up.

Three portals in one day. When they haven’t had a portal mishap since that whole incident with the ogre last fall. Regina’s gonna have a field day with this.

Regina.

She checks against all common sense that’s telling her to focus on anything else. She texted back, which causes all of Emma’s limbs to kind of melt in relief. It’s mildly embarrassing, and she’s glad she’s in the car, and she’s glad she threw out her 1989 CD.

_Not so long. Though I never want to look at a zoning layout ever again._

She smiles so much that it starts to hurt. Everything _really_ is fine.

Except for the portals. Which might not be fine.

 

* * *

 

When she pulls up to the curb, David is getting yelled at by Leroy.

“That was a _genuine_ golden goose egg, Charming!”

David sighs patiently. “Leroy, I doubt it’s a real–”

 _“_ Of course it’s _real!_ I was gonna give it to Astrid for her birthday!” His leans in with a scowl, cheeks red as Emma’s favorite jacket.

David smiles. “Leroy, my friends and I used to paint golden goose eggs all the time as kids, and try to sell them at the market. I know what they look like.”

“Who knew delinquency ran in the family,” Emma says, coming up next to him.

“Your mother was a bandit,” Leroy huffs. “The best bandit I ever met.”

“What am I, chopped fake prince turned bandit liver?”

Leroy, despite him, lets out a laugh. “You were a better one than the real Prince James ever was. He was a _real–_ ”

 _“Anyway,_ did it ever work?”

David looks at Leroy significantly. “Never. We almost got arrested once, and I swore to my mother that I’d never do it again.”

Leroy deflates, and runs a hand up his arm. “Yeah. Alright. Maybe it was, you know, kind of suspicious. I had _doubts_. Still, Astrid woulda liked it. Any chance we could get it back?”

“There’s always a chance, Leroy.” David places a friendly hand on his shoulder. Emma holds back the world’s fondest eye roll. “Can you tell us more about the portal now?”

Leroy shrugs. “Nothing special about it. I think it was like the one you,” he points at Emma, “fell into with Snow way back when, only smaller.”

Emma snorts. “Would you say it was _run-of-the-mill?_ ”

They stare at her. “Never mind,” she murmurs. “What happened to the portal?”

“It ah...Disappeared a few seconds before you got here, sister.”

David sighs. “If you want the truth, Emma, I spent the last twenty minutes trying to pull Leroy out. _Then_ it disappeared.”

Leroy grumbles. “No one ever wants the truth, chopped liver.”

“Could you see what was on the other side?”

Leroy shrugs again. “It was fairly...you know, magical. Weird. Purple.”

Great.

“Did you see anyone do anything suspicious before this happened?”

“No one flying away on broomsticks or anything.”

“That would be weird since Zelena is on vacation and arguably less evil.”

Leroy furrows his brow. _“Vacation?_ What does a witch need with a vacation?”

Emma sighs. “So, to clarify, you didn’t see anyone?”

He shrugs. “It came out of nowhere. Startled the hell out of me and my egg.”

“Right,” Emma says and looks at David. “We should...probably call Regina.” Her stomach lurches, despite her embarrassing moment in the car.

David rubs the back of her neck. “It’s not a Class Three yet, is it?”

“What the hell’s a Class Three?”

“Magical object catastrophes, and magical attacks by people and animals,” she says, counting off her hands. “Technically uncleared portal creation is a Class Two, but I’ve been arguing that it should be a Class Three for–”

“Portals are harmless, Sheriff Swan, if you know how to handle them.”

Emma whips around. It’s Regina, fresh from teleportation, tendrils of smoke still waving around her. She smiles at her and means to be sardonic, but it probably looks a little dopey. “You and your big entrances, Madam Mayor.

Regina gives a closed-lip smile, but her eyes are shining and there’s no evidence at all in her face that she’s upset with Emma. Hooray for overthinking. “Just keeping you on your toes, Sheriff.”

Emma laughs, despite herself. “I’m practically floating.”

“Who called you?” David asks, calmly, because he’s used to this. Leroy is looking between them like they’ve each grown three new heads that know how to harmonize.

Regina’s eyes shift to David’s. “Marian. Her situation is under control, by the way. Apart from the missing house, I think it was? More zoning layouts, wonderful.”

“Dog house,” Emma supplies.

“Situation?” David asks.

“She also had a portal problem,” Emma says. “Forgot to mention.”

“That makes two,” David says with a furrowed brow. “This is....concerning.”

“Three actually,” Emma says, wincing. “Mrs. Muffet and her cat, Andrew. Who was a horse.”

Leroy looks anxiously over at Regina. “Now would be a good time for theories, Queenie. Any of your formally evil buddies agitated for some reason?”

Regina rolls her eyes, but her face turns grave at the corners. She looks up for a second, and then her eyes flicker back to Emma’s. “Either these portals are deliberate or there’s probably a disturbance in the magical field. I need to check on...excuse me.”

She poofs away in purple smoke, and Leroy coughs. “Uncalled for!” he calls into thin air.

Emma has half a mind to poof along with her, but. She doesn’t know what she would say to her, even though this is about work and they can talk about work, but it’s about work at home, and she really just needs to _talk_ to Regina, but. Not like this.

She puts a hand on David’s shoulder. “Let’s regroup with Marian and Mulan. Stay classy, Leroy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leroy says with an eye roll and a head shake in David’s direction. “Sigh hi to your wife for me, will ya?”

“Will do,” David says, clapping him on the shoulder again.

 

* * *

 

Back at the station, Marian’s the only one in the squad room. Cleaning arrows at her desk.

Emma doesn’t ask.

There’s also three bearclaws and a scone–for David, the traitor–and Marian hands her a claw as she passes by to her own desk.

“Where’s Regina?”

Emma takes a blissful bite. “Home,” she says, mouth still a little full. “Checking you know,” she waves her hand. “TOTO, that creepy robot thing that monitors the magic levels around town. It’s charging in the brooding lair, so she needs to check it over there before coming back here.”

Marian tilts her head. “Brooding lair?”

Emma shrugs. “Well, it was her evil lair, but now that’s moot.”

Marian grins. “Regina _broods?”_

Emma almost throws up a little. “And that was a joke. A joke that I made up! See, humor, comedy. Stand-Up Swan. Let’s get back to work.”

Marian takes a bite of her own bearclaw, and with an arrow in her other hand it’s a striking pose. “I know Regina _broods,_ Emma. I’m at your house, where you both live, every week. You have my son’s art on your fridge.”

Emma laughs shakily. “Mr. Bear is an essential part of the kitchen.”

Marian looks at her curiously, brows drawn together. She her arrows down. “Are you guys doing okay? She’s been acting odd whenever I bring you up. Usually, it’s hard to change the topic again.”

Emma stuffs more of the bearclaw in her mouth so she doesn’t have to answer that, manners-wise, for another five seconds. “Uh, yeah. Why are you– Why do you ask…like that?”

She’s imagining the smirk pulling Marian’s lips up. She has to be. “Like what?”

“Never mind.” Emma wipes her hands on her jeans because time isn’t real anyway, and takes out a random piece of paperwork. Oh god, permission for re-zoning. “We’re fine, I promise. It’s just, you know, Henry left for school, so. We’re proud, sad moms.”

“What’d I miss?” Mulan says, leaning against the break room door with a mug in hand. “Where’s the Mayor?”

“Checking TOTO.”

“The roomba that keeps making a scene at the library intersection because it thinks a dragon is still in the basement?”

“It’s not a roomba,” Emma reasons. She widens her eyes. “Oh my god, it’s a roomba.”

Marian begins to put away her arrows, one by one. “Emma’s just avoiding her problems.”

Emma points with her pencil at the paperwork. _“These_ are my problems, and I’m going to solve them until David gets back.”

Mulan raises a brow. “Looks like I missed a lot. Do you want some hot coffee with those problems?”

“No thanks,” Emma says. “These are more of a vodka problem, I think.”

Marian purses her lips.

“What? I hate zoning paperwork.”

Marian starts to get her own paperwork out. “Didn’t say anything, Sheriff.”

She decides to look at her phone instead of glare. Henry texted her a few minutes ago.

_hey ma!_

_hey kid, how’s the day?_

_okay. math sucks, but i also had english today!_

_reading anything cool?_

_it’s a class on sci-fi! we’re reading h.g. wells first._

_sweet. time travel guy, right?_

David walks in. She waves at him and he waves back before shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the ancient hat rack. It threatens to topple over, and everyone in the room watches in apprehension because no way in hell do they have a budget for a new one.

“Maybe stop storing your jacket collection here, Sheriff?” Marian says, holding her pen the same way she held the arrow.

“It’s _pleather_ ,” Emma mumbles.

_yep! i’ll call later with the full update._

_you better, kid. everything still good in the friendship world?_

_the breakfast club is going strong. no reference intended, we just eat breakfast together. and will doesn’t believe in aliens, so we might have some problems there._

_don’t you think aliens and fairytales both being real is a little excessive?_

_the more the merrier!_

_gotta go, duty calls. talk to you later! love you!_

_bye, ma! love you too!_

He puts his hands on his hips. “So, what did I miss?

“You took my line,” Mulan says, going over to sit on Marian’s desk. She picks up a bearclaw.

“Can I make it up to you in the form of coffee?” David asks, going to the break room.

Mulan raises her mug.

He snaps harshly, full drama. “Damn.”

Emma walks to the break room after him. “What took you so long?” She says, leaning a hand on the door frame.

“Snow called, Neal is coming down with a fever.”

Emma’s stomach plummets. “Is he...alright? Does he need to go to Whale?”

David gives a gentle smile, and grabs his coffee mug out of the keurig. “He’s fine, Emma. It’s not a very high fever, I just needed to swing by with some nyquil.”

Emma swallows. Once, Henry, (who’s okay, okay, okay), came down with a gnarly fever and was _crying_ and these aren’t even real memories, but. “Well, give him a hug from his cool, psychic superhero big sister. Tell him those powers include the flu, maybe that’ll get his brain to help out his body or, something.”

He reaches over and places a fatherly pat on her shoulder. “I’ll do that. Actually, I might need to take off after the meeting. Snow’s grading tonight.”

“That’s fine, unless this portal situation ends up being...a situation.” Emma reconsiders the coffee. It could be a long night, after all.

“Ah, right. What’s the official Class?”

“Haven’t heard back from Regina yet. If it’s not just magical surges, then…”

“Let’s not go there until we have to go there,” David says, taking a sip. “Frankly, I’ve enjoyed not having my life threatened or cursed every other Monday.”

She slaps him on the arm. “Dad, you jinxed us.”

He laughs and takes another sip.

Emma reconsiders the coffee. It could be a long ass night.

 

* * *

 

“It’s a magical surge,” Regina announces.

Mulan lets out a sigh of relief. Marian rubs the top of her back. Emma mentally apologizes to David, for the jinxing thing.

“However,” Regina continues because she’s a dramatic asshole, “it’s not a...natural surge.”

“I’m sorry, but what constitutes an unnatural magic surge in a land _naturally_ without magic?” Mulan asks, arms crossed.

Regina sighs. “When natural surges happen, the intervals are random. These are precise. Three magical surges, each occurring three-point-five seconds after the other.”

Emma takes back her apology. “So, someone caused them.”

Regina looks at her, as grave as before with something worrying the corners of her lips. “I believe someone did.” She keeps looking at Emma.

“Fuck,” Marian offers.

Regina snorts. “Exactly.”

Emma folds her fingers together on the desk. “It doesn’t mean...I mean, it could be some asshole with a hat and a dare. You know what I mean?”

“Would someone really be that stupid?” Marian asks in Regina’s direction, holding her bearclaw. “No, don’t answer that, I already know.”

“We can at least narrow it down,” Regina says.

“If the surges were timed like that, it really sounds planned, ” Mulan says, leaned forward in her chair. “Also with how small the portals were...Like, I don’t know what you’d call it, but it could be like...the magical equivalent of sending scouts out.”

“A test run,” Emma murmurs.

Everyone sits with that one for a bit.

Marian offers the chair across from her to Regina with a wave of her hand, and Regina nods her thanks and sits, puts an elbow up on the desk. She catches Emma’s gaze, and god she looks tired. Emma probably looks the same. She offers Regina what she hopes is a comforting smile, and Regina’s eyes go kind of soft.

“I don’t think we’re going to solve this, today,” Mulan says. “We don’t know enough, but we should start… actually investigating.” She lifts up the pad and gives a very knowing grin to Emma. “Starting with Andrew the cat.”

Emma closes her eyes. “Honestly, what did I do. I didn’t personally throw Andrew into the portal, did I?”

“It’s a Charming thing, actually,” David says, grim. “We were running from, well–”

“Yes,” Regina says, not awkward.

“Well, we accidentally broke her chicken pen. They all got out.”

“And I thought I held grudges,” Regina says, staring at her hands.

David laughs. “Never like Mrs. Muffet, your majesty.”

Regina shakes her head with an eye roll, and Emma snorts. “Come to think of it, her daughter has never been particularly pleasant at PTA meetings.”

“Which one is her daughter?”

Emma turns to Regina. “You know, the one with the _awful side bangs_?”

Regina lifts her chin in mock affront. “I do not talk like that.”

“Oh believe me, _dear_ , I can do a way better impression.”

“When on earth do I say _dear_ like that?”

Emma waves an arm. “Like, you know! When people have _awful side bangs_.”

“Let’s leave the courting out of the office, ladies,” Marian says, delicately, with a shit-eating grin.

Everyone stares at her.

David’s eyes widen. Mulan looks down at her mug, which is definitely empty. Regina doesn’t look at her, but the base of her neck goes red. Marian just eats her bearclaw, like she didn’t just tilt the world off its fucking axis.

Emma wants to die. She rubs the back of her neck. “Speaking of….out of the office,” Emma says. “Let’s talk about this more tomorrow. Have a great night, team.”

Mulan books it the hell out of there, but not before giving Emma a wry salute. Marian continues eating her bearclaw and Emma loves her but wants to take that bearclaw and make her watch it go down the garbage disposal, but that would fuck up the garbage disposal, which hasn’t been updated in three decades.

Regina clears her throat, and doesn’t look at her. “Emma, I teleported here, could I have a ride?”

“Yeah, of course. That makes sense as. We live together.”

Marian snorts into her bearclaw.

Regina just looks at her. Glare suspiciously absent. “See you at lunch tomorrow?”

“You bet. Roland’s looking forward to more Henry stories, especially ones where he...fights monsters every morning before class?”

Regina laughs and squeezes Marian’s hand. She looks over at Emma, and Emma’s heart squeezes too, squeezes bigger and warmer. “Our Henry and his big imagination.”

God, that’s what this weird feeling has been. She misses her.

 

* * *

 

“Weird day today,” Emma says with an awkward laugh, stepping into the parlor and tugging off her boots. “Hopefully magic just has a really bad sense of humor, huh?”

Regina hovers by the door, hands in her pockets. She gives a sharp laugh and a pointed look. “Magic has _always_ had a bad sense of humor, Emma.”

Emma kicks her boots into the closet. “I don’t know. Elsa showing up a few months after _Frozen_ came out was a decent use of irony.”

“Hmm, if a little contrived.”

Her hands are still in her pockets. Emma has a silly thought of gently taking them out and asking if she’s cold, because Emma’s pretty warm-blooded, haha. She keeps standing there, though, and it’s getting a little bit concerning. “Regina? What are you, uh. How are you doing?”

“What?”

Emma flexes her toes and bounces. “Henry...you know, he calls a lot but, not having him here is...a different thing.”

“Emma,” Regina says, low and a little devastated. “I’m...it is hard, but I’m managing. I promise.”

She inhales sharply and lets the breath go ragged. “Okay,” she says, softly. “I mean, if you’re not at any time, I’m here. Living here, I mean.”

Regina smiles, sadly. “I know.” She takes a breath, and takes her hands out of her pockets. She steps forward with a hand turned out, fanned towards Emma, like she’s going to reach for Emma’s hand, and Emma’s heart does a weird flip. “Do you…”

“What?”

Regina shakes her head. “Nothing, never mind.”

Emma gives a thumbs up, because she’s forgotten how to be alive. “Cool, uh. I’m gonna–” She gestures upstairs, and then sticks her own hands in her own pockets, starts walking backwards, and then forwards, up the stairs, hoping.

She hears Regina zip off her boots, and sighs. “Hey, uh…”

“Yeah?”

She turns around and Regina’s taken off her jacket. Emma’s eyes catch how her hair brushes the tops of her shoulder, and Regina’s eyes catch hers. “Yes, Emma?”

“Goodnight,” she says hoarsely, with a half-smile. (Regina used to squeeze her shoulder before they went to bed or they’d squeeze hands for a goodnight or maybe even _hug_ , and god, Emma just wants–) “Don’t let the portals bite.”

Regina’s smirk is really more of a smile. “ _Goodnight_ , Emma.”

Emma wants to stop, wants to ask her to have dinner, come on we’ll order a pizza like old times, when Henry had sleepovers, come on, we’ll talk about everything, we always have something to talk about, wants to be close enough to smell her shampoo, is that weird? (She also wants to ask if this home is really just a house, but that’s a question at the back of her skull with Dark Swan laughing and laughing and these past _five years_ can’t be just nothing, bags waiting to be packed. They have their _son_. That isn’t real, that isn’t real, it isn’t–)

“Goodnight,” she whispers again, and doesn’t check to see if she heard it.

(Everything is fine.)


End file.
